


Christmas is For Memories

by jessahmewren



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Challenge Response, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Tree, Domestic Fluff, First Christmas, I took a fluff prompt and ruined it but, M/M, Multi, Poly!Queen Week 2019, Post-Divorce, Sad John Deacon, Sentimental, everything turns out ok in the end, sad but fluffy, you have my word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-28 09:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20776226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessahmewren/pseuds/jessahmewren
Summary: John spends his first Christmas with the boys, but finds himself struggling.





	Christmas is For Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Poly!Queen Week, Day 7! "Decorate a Christmas Tree!" A fluffy prompt with an angsty twist! 
> 
> I'm really in my feelings today over the end of PQW. We've had such a wonderful time. Maybe we can take these good feels and keep the spirit and fanworks going!
> 
> I just want to take a moment to say thank you to everyone for making this week so special. What a wonderful time we've had! I hope you enjoy this little melancholy oneshot. I certainly enjoyed writing it! You all have made this week extra special; without your involvement, encouragement, and comments, this week would not have been possible. Until next time! <3

-0-0-0-

Roger had Elvis’s Christmas album on the turntable, and there was a low fire in the hearth. He was wearing a green and red patterned jumper, making him look like a walking Christmas present. John could scarcely wait to unwrap him later. 

That flat was decorated festively, with faux gum drop candies that Freddie had strung everywhere, and wintry-flocked pinecones propped on the mantle. There was mistletoe in ever doorway and candles on every perch, and Freddie had started early lighting each one. Despite Brian’s warning that he was going to burn down the flat, Freddie had their home alight in a warm and rosy glow. 

There was a loud struggle and then a knock at the door, and John had no soon opened it than the top of a large spruce crashed through the opening. He and Roger rushed to help as Brian and Freddie struggled with a large, beautiful Christmas tree. When they finally wrestled it in place near the window, the sheer size and fragrance of it made their little flat feel more like a home. 

John idled over and slipped his arms around Brian. “Pick a big one next time, Bri.” 

He only smiled, fussing with smudges of sticky sap across his palm. “Bullocks. I wanted our first Christmas together to be special.” He turned then and placed a kiss on John’s forehead, filling him with warmth. 

John felt his face heat. “It will be, Bri.” 

“Um, lovebirds, I could use some help here. This beast has to be trimmed you know.” 

Freddie was nearly toppled over with boxes as he came from the hall closet, the top of his dark head only evident over the highest one. 

Roger clutched his eggnog and simply laughed. “Don’t carry so many at once then.” He knocked back what was left of his drink, feeling the liquor warm him immediately, and set down his glass so he could help Freddie. “I love you Freddie but sometimes I wonder.” 

“What do you wonder darling,” Freddie gibed as he relinquished several of the boxes. “How you could ever live without me?” 

Roger kissed him soundly on the mouth, luxuriating in peppermint and chapstick and the just the feel of his lover against him. 

“Mmm, I couldn’t,” Roger said sweetly, “but I do wonder where your head is times.” 

“That makes two of us then,” Freddie returned easily. 

Roger and Freddie settled down to unpack boxes of tree trimmings while John wandered off into the kitchen.

In truth, he wasn’t ready for Christmas. 

This would be the first Christmas since his divorce…the first Christmas he spent without his children. And while he was happier than he’d ever been, he was also sad. It was a strange dichotomy of emotions. 

Brian washed his hands in the sink, still picking at the sap. He was wiping his hands, one hip cocked against the counter and looking at John intently. 

“You want to tell me about it love?” 

John started at that. He hadn’t made it so obvious, had he? 

Brian tipped his chin with an elegant finger, and there were tears in his eyes. “It’s Veronica, isn’t it?” 

John swallowed. “No,” he said quietly. “Not really. Just…everything. It’s just all really fresh. And it’s Christmas.” 

Brian pulled him into a warm embrace, lightly stroking patterns up and down his back. “You’re entitled to feel the way you’re feeling Deaky,” he said softly. “You’ve been through a lot.” 

“But I love you and the boys,” he sniffed. “I want to be here.” 

Brian hugged him tighter. “Missing your old life is not betraying us. It’s being human. We know you love us darling. You don’t have to prove it.” 

John pulled away from him, his eyes red, and gave him a shaky smile.

“Most of these are broken!” came a high-pitched wail from the carpet in front of the tree. “What are we going to do now? Roger was holding up a red Christmas ornament, partially shattered. 

“Um, I have some with my things,” John hesitantly. “I haven’t unpacked them yet. They’re sort of keepsakes.” 

“If you don’t mind love, could you get them? Our poor tree could use them,” Freddie said. 

John nodded, going to what remained of his unpacked boxes and fishing out the right one. He carried it like glass to the living room, setting it gingerly down on the carpet. Freddie and Roger had already begun to trim the tree with the surviving ornaments, so he opened the box, revealing the contents. 

They were all special…some plaster casts of footprints, some ornaments that said Baby’s First Christmas, some sloppily painted rocking horses and hand-molded bells. There was even a macramé wreathe in there. What mattered is that they were all lovingly designed and gifted to him by his children. 

Brian had arrived to help with the tree trimming, stringing lights ahead of Roger and Freddie (announcing “You do that first, don’t you know anything!”). When Brian had finished, they all looked inside John’s box with an awed expression. 

“Ooh, darling these are going to look so special on our tree,” Freddie cooed.

They looked up and John was crying. 

Roger reached up to caress his face. “Love, what’s the matter. Talk to us.” 

John wiped at his eyes. “I’m a terrible father,” he muttered miserably. 

Roger pulled him into a fierce hug as the others crowded around them. 

“I should be with my children on Christmas…I should have tried harder to make the marriage work,” he said tearfully. 

Brian smoothed his hair. “My love, you did everything you could to save that marriage. It wasn’t your fault. Your children still love you.” 

“You’re a wonderful father, Deaks,” Freddie interjected. “When do you get to see them?” 

John wiped at his eyes. “Three days after Christmas.” 

Freddie smiled, his eyes bright. “Wonderful! Then you have another Christmas. Two Christmases. One with us, and one with them. More Christmases means more memories.” 

John lifted his head. “I never thought of it like that.” 

Roger kissed him. “We love you so much, Deaky. We want you for Christmas, too.” 

Freddie stretched himself over the box of ornaments and gave him a warm hug. “Think of the memories we’ll make this year…our first Christmas together.” 

John had stopped crying now, and he rested his head on Freddie’s forehead. “Yeah,” he said, smiling. 

Brian clapped his hands. “We’ve got a tree to trim, boys. Let’s get to it, yeah?”

They all started pulling ornaments out, both John’s and the survivors from moving, happily hanging them on the evergreen branches. The little flat was looking cheerier and cheerier, and John had to admit that his ornaments did seamlessly meld with the others, almost as if they belonged there. Maybe this Christmas would be one to remember after all. 

-0-0-0-


End file.
